


Pure Hearts

by InkAtHeart



Series: Good Men [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Drunk Sex, Dry Orgasm, Happy Ending, M/M, Older McCree, Oral Sex, Referenced prostitution, Reunions, Rimming, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Younger Hanzo, implied suicidal intent, spirit dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14673168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAtHeart/pseuds/InkAtHeart
Summary: In his mind’s eye Hanzo could still see the mud, the rain, the blood. He could hear his brother’s dragon, the dying roar before it faded out under the cacophony of the storm. The same dragon who, just two days ago, had reappeared under the command of some metal monster.Jesse McCree was something easy for Hanzo to focus on, something that wasn’t the confusing amalgamation of metal that had summoned the green dragon.(( Final part to the Good Men series. ))





	Pure Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to [Fujo](http://fujo.tumblr.com/) who sponsored this piece.
> 
> And of course all my love to [Banana Butt Stuff](https://bananas-overwatch-bin.tumblr.com/) for helping edit.
> 
> First it gets hot...  
> Then it gets heavy...

Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Focus on taking slow, even breaths and the mind would clear itself. It was how Hanzo had been taught meditation from a young age. Back then it had been difficult to clear his mind because all he wanted to do was go and play with his brother, wanted to learn the ways of the sword, or had just wanted to read the comic books he hoarded under his bed. Now though… It was the hands that kept his mind muddled. The feel of dozens of hands on his body, everywhere, on everything, touching and feeling and grabbing. They came with voices, indistinct but unsettling, telling him all the things that had been done to him behind closed doors, reminding him of every way he’d been defiled.

Deep breath in. Slow breath out.

In his mind’s eye he could still see the mud, the rain, the blood. His beloved brother dying at his feet, and in those final seconds he could see the wide eyes staring at him with childlike fear. Genji couldn’t understand why his Anija would ever take a blade against him. Why Hanzo would hurt him so badly. He could hear his brother’s dragon, the dying roar before it faded out under the cacophony of the storm.

The same dragon who, just two days ago, had reappeared under the command of some metal monster. The presence of Genji’s dragon had shocked Hanzo, and for the first time in five years, he felt his own dragons stirring beneath his skin. The call of their sister had woken them from their slumber, and they had come to her aid regardless of Hanzo’s presence.

They had been silent since.

Jesse McCree had been something easy for Hanzo to focus on, something that wasn’t the confusing amalgamation of metal that had summoned the green dragon. Three bullet wounds were buried in the man’s body, and he had gotten those on Hanzo’s behalf. More blood on his hands. But McCree had done so  _ for  _ him. For  _ Hanzo _ . He had come to Hanzo’s aid, had swept in when the man was at his lowest and carried him out of a self-imposed Hell. He didn’t deserve someone like Jesse McCree to come save him - he deserved far worse than everything he had gotten. And yet, McCree had held him for a few quiet minutes in that Bordello room, cradled him and made him feel human again for the first time in years.

Perhaps that was what hurt the worst. Being treated like a human who deserved love and happy endings. Being told kind things when his brother was dead by Hanzo’s hand, murdered for nothing more than boyish arrogance. Hanzo had spent years as a nameless whore, a self-imposed punishment that would last until someone decided to pay the Bordello enough to kill him. It was what he deserved. Not Jesse McCree, not happy endings.

He needed alcohol. When meditation inevitably failed him, as it did in that moment, he would turn to the bottle. However now…he had nothing but an empty room. While Jesse was in the med-bay the day before, Hanzo had been allowed to sit at his side and take both comfort and distress in the slow beeps of the heart monitor. He had fallen asleep at some point and was woken by the gentle sensation of a warm hand smoothing over his hair.

After a while, a man that had introduced himself as Gabriel Reyes came into the room. He told Jesse to find Hanzo somewhere proper to sleep, and the man had done so. McCree barely looked affected by the wounds by the time he pulled himself out of the medical bed and lead Hanzo out into the building proper. By that point, Hanzo was too tired to map the building’s hallways, and between one blink and the next had appeared in front of a nondescript door.

“Sorry, it isn’t much,” Jesse had shrugged while scratching the back of his neck. He pushed a button beside the door and it slid open to reveal a space that was little more than a closet with a bed and a window. “They’re called Dark Rooms, they’re soundproof and meant for those of us who just came back from a mission and need to get some hard sleep without interruption. Get some rest, and I’ll come get you once Reyes is done gnawin’ on my ass.” He laughed, but Hanzo could only feel another pang of guilt.

That had been hours ago.

After several failed attempts at sleep, he had tried meditation. When that further failed him, he tried sleep again. It had been an uncomfortable cycle.

Hanzo could hear nothing of the outside world, so he was startled when the door suddenly slid open and revealed Jesse on the other side. The younger bolted to his feet and spotted the worry in his friend’s eyes.

“You don’ look like you got much sleep,” McCree commented lightly, leaning against the frame of the door lazily. The man’s face seemed to have aged several years, the crow’s-feet at the corners of Jesse’s eyes more prominent and his beard seemed even more wild, like he’d been running his fingers through it.

Hanzo just shook his head slowly, “There is a lot on my mind.” Two questions pressed at the back of his throat, wanting to be asked and only being held back by sheer stubborn will. He wanted to see the metal monster who commanded his late brother’s dragon, and he also wanted Jesse to come to bed with him to help him sleep. Both questions seemed wrong to ask in that moment.

Jesse’s smile was thin but comforting, “I would imagine. It’s been a crazy few days for you. What can I do to help?”

The real question was what hadn’t McCree already done? Asking for more seemed selfish and improper, but the thought of dismissing the man was distressing. “Do you have…alcohol?” he finally asked, hoping that would be a safe enough request. Jesse seemed like the kind of man who enjoyed drinking.

He caught the upward twitch of the man’s mouth behind the thatch of hair, “I do. But it’s in my room. We could go there or I could bring it—”

“Your room please,” Hanzo blurted without thinking, and when the words could not be taken back he took a breath, “I… This room is rather bland.”

Jesse chuckled at that, a sweet and genuine sound that came from the man’s chest, Hanzo remembered feeling that rumbling sound against the palm of his hands a year ago, “I suppose you’re right. Well, come on then,” the man pushed off the wall and gestured for the younger to follow. He walked at Jesse’s side, knowing he was being herded in a specific direction, knowing the areas just around those corners were off-limits. There was a time when Hanzo would have been curious, would have already slunk off to find out where he was.

Now, though, he just enjoyed the warm body at his side and the feeling of safety around him, no matter how tenuous it was.

Soon enough they reached a door that Jesse had to scan his hand to get into. The door slid open and revealed a cramped space, only slightly larger than the dark room he had been in. A small bed, a nightstand, and a narrow dresser with a few drawers. A window sat over the dresser. “Perks of bein’ the Boss’s number-two guy, I get my own room.” He sounded so proud of himself, only to pause after a moment and became subdued, “It ain’t much though, sorry Darlin’.”

Hanzo didn’t mind. His nights without clients were spent in cramped cots, though there had been a time when he remembered sleeping in opulence. He stepped towards the bed and sat himself down. The space was cleaner than he expected, the bed made, the space free of dust or clutter. He reminded himself that wherever they were, it was some kind of military base. It was to be expected that cleanliness had been drilled into the cowboy, no matter how he appeared. When he noticed Jesse standing awkwardly, as if waiting for the younger to say something, Hanzo smiled, “It’s nice.”

Jesse’s smile was tense as he stepped into the room and the door slid closed with a click. “It’s uh, a whole lot nicer with you in it,” the man managed nervously and Hanzo could see the way his eyes flitted over Hanzo’s body. McCree turned and knelt down in front of the dresser, opening the bottom drawer as he cleared his throat, “Anyway. I don’t have any Sake, just whiskey. And I’m afraid I don’t usually entertain so I don’t have glasses, I could go get some if you’d pre-”

“Jesse,” Hanzo leaned forward and felt amusement bubbling up inside of him, “Relax. Whiskey is fine. Though… If you’re alright with my mouth on your bottle,” he caught the way McCree’s expression and body got slightly more tense, “I don’t need a glass.” Feeling brave at the way Jesse was trying not to stare at Hanzo’s body, he leaned forward closer to the man’s ear, “Besides, I’ve already had my mouth on your bottle before. I liked the taste.”

He heard Jesse’s soft, sharp little huff of breath, “Jesus…darlin’.” He suddenly uncorked the bottle and took a long pull from the top. The bottle seemed mostly full still when he handed it over.

Hanzo accepted easily, falling into what had become easy for him. He lazily licked the mouth of the bottle, letting McCree watch him before he tipped the container up and took two long swallows. It was better than the watered down piss that they called Sake at the Bordello, this burned like fire and tasted heavily of cinnamon on its way down. Hanzo had to clear his throat as he handed the bottle back, using his thumb to wipe a bit of the drink from the corner of his lips. “That is,” his voice was slightly raw and he cleared his throat again to clear it, “That is unique.”

Jesse chuckled and moved to sit next to Hanzo on the bed, “It’s called Fireball, cinnamon whiskey. It’s the Boss’s favorite and the easiest for me to get my hands on,” he rambled, “Never much had a taste for it myself but you take what you can get. So long as it gets you where you need to be-”

“McCree,” Hanzo pressed lightly to interrupt the prattling, “Are you alright?”

“Me? What’re you worried about me for Sweetness? I got an angel sittin’ on my bed - I’m just dandy.”

Hanzo raised a brow and reached out to take the bottle back for another long swig. He couldn’t say that he was immediately in love with the drink, but as McCree had suggested it didn’t really matter, “You’re babbling. You’re nervous.”

The man just seemed to get more anxious at that, gently taking the bottle back for a long drink himself, “Nah. Just been a long few days.”

The younger huffed, “After what I saw at the Bordello, I imagine you’ve had many long days before. You don’t seem like the kind of man to get so jittery without good reason.”

There was a long pause as the bottle was passed back to him. He felt the first curls of warmth pooling in his belly and the relaxation that came with a good drink settling into his limbs. He took half of a drink before setting the bottle by his feet, “Jesse?”

“S’just,” the man finally started and heaved out a sigh, “Boss was talkin’ about what we’re gonna have to do with you. Either I gotta say goodbye once and for all, or you get put in a lot of danger.”

Hanzo frowned, “You’re being deliberately vague.”

“I am.”

“If it involves me directly, then I deserve to know,” Hanzo moved to stand, feeling the world tilt languidly around him. He turned to face Jesse, giving him the height to look down on the man and fix him with a hard stare. His hands came up and rested on solid, broad shoulders, and in that moment all he wanted to do was invite himself into the man’s lap rather than talk.

Jesse made no move to get up. If he were standing he would easily tower over Hanzo, but he remained sitting on the bed with a lost look in his amber eyes. For a long while he seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything, he would keep his secret, but finally he broke and leaned his head forward on Hanzo’s sternum gently. “Reyes wants to… He says that you’ll have the choice of joining us here in Overwatch, or you’ll have to leave for good. I can’t keep contact with you if that happens.”

Hanzo hummed softly, his hands smoothing along the backs of those strong shoulders and up under a thick patch of chestnut hair to the back of the man’s neck. His skin was warm, like he’d been out in the sun, and pebbled with gooseflesh forming beneath Hanzo’s palm. He considered the words as he held Jesse’s head against him, feeling no desire to push the man away. He knew now that he was safer with McCree than anyone else, and it was a feeling that had come from displayed loyalty rather than gut instinct.

“What would I have to do here in Overwatch?” Hanzo wondered. He knew what Overwatch was and what they did. He did not see how he fit into that setting, though he didn’t see it with Jesse either.

“That’s…classified. A lot of it’s classified. I could already be skinned alive for what I told you Darlin,” the man took a deep breath and let it out through his nose, then continued despite having warned himself against it, “They’ll want you to fight. To help us end the war with the Omnics. You’ll have to get your hands dirty.”

Hanzo shook his head and huffed airily, “My hands are already filthy, Jesse.”

“It’s dangerous work,” the man added firmly, “I didn’t pull you out of a pan to throw you into a fire.”

The adage flew over Hanzo’s head and he frowned as he tried to figure it out. He settled on answering the first part, “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

Jesse was quiet for a moment, then nodded, “I suppose it is. I’d just rather see you safe.”

The younger laughed, “Safety is an illusion. I would rather face the danger outright than have it sneak up on me under the guise of safety.” He could feel Jesse’s worry in the tension of those big shoulders. “Besides,” Hanzo continued and gently pushed McCree to sit up straighter so that he could slide into his lap. Knees framed Jesse’s hips as he shimmied into the wide space covered by heavy denim while his arms circled around the man’s shoulders to hold him close. He reveled in the look of surprise in those dark eyes, and the feel of those big, calloused hands coming up to rest on Hanzo’s waist, “What if I want to stay here?”

Jesse looked utterly surprised and lost for words.

Hanzo decided to continue, giving voice to the words he’d been cradling deep inside of himself since he saw Jesse in his room the second time in Japan. He leaned in, pressing those words to chapped lips, “What if I want to stay here, with you?”

The man beneath him let out a punched-out huff of air that mingled between them, chin tipping up as he quietly begged Hanzo to seal their kiss. However, Hanzo was content with the millimeters of space between them, the shared scent of whiskey and cinnamon, and the unanswered question.

“Darlin,” Jesse pressed upwards as Hanzo pulled back just enough to keep them separate, a ghost of contact between them, “There’s something you don’ know.”

Hanzo tipped his head curiously, feathering the softest kiss to those waiting lips and drawing a weak sound from the man beneath him, “What is that?”

McCree swallowed heavily, the hands on Hanzo’s waist tightening just slightly. He could feel the growing press of interest swelling in Jesse’s jeans and realized in a moment how much he wanted it. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps he was just remembering how nice the man’s dick felt inside of him.

“I can’t tell you. Not my place…” Jesse managed in a thin voice.

Hanzo frowned. That only made him want to know more. “Do you want me?” he wondered, sliding his hips in a slow grind against Jesse’s lap, feeling the man going tense beneath him. “I want you,” he continued, feathering kisses across Jesse’s lower lip.

Jesse huffed a disappointed sound, “You’re drunk…”

The younger chuckled softly, “Not too drunk. Are you?”

The man swallowed hard and whined, “No.” His hands slid down, big and strong, grabbing the globes of Hanzo’s ass firmly, sending a jolt of pure want arcing down his spine. He pushed down against Jesse’s lap, felt the promise waiting there, felt his mouth watering from his hunger. “Are you sure?” McCree asked again and Hanzo couldn’t help how he rolled his eyes some.

He sealed their mouths together in a kiss, licked over Jesse’s lips and soon found his own mouth invaded by a warm tongue. It was as if he had set something free inside of the other. Hanzo was briefly aware of the sensation of being lifted before he felt his back hit the wall. Those big hands slid down and held his thighs in a fierce grip until the younger wrapped his legs around wide hips so that Jesse could grind against him with unapologetic want. It was exhilarating to feel something so raw and unrestrained, from the energy pulsing through Jesse’s body to the hot line of the cock straining against denim.

This wasn’t Jesse the businessman having come to Japan to relax. This was Jesse McCree, the powerful soldier with a body like heated steel.

Hanzo wanted  _ all of it _ .

By the feel of Jesse suddenly pulling at Hanzo’s top, he wasn’t the only one. He lifted his arms, let their kiss break for the barest of seconds before Jesse was back, throwing the shirt aside and grabbing two handfuls of Hanzo’s pecs while his hips held the smaller man in place against the wall. He knew exactly how nice his chest was, pronounced and full, knew how much his clients liked playing with his nipples with hands and mouths. McCree was no different, and yet his hands were wide and calloused, gripping the whole of each pec and  _ squeezing _ , kneading, silently promising.

Suddenly Jesse pulled his mouth from Hanzo’s with a wet sound, the ragged huffs of breathing filling the small space of the room. McCree dove down and took one of Hanzo’s nipples between his teeth, a sharp sort of pleasure fissuring up and down Hanzo’s body as hot lips took in the whole areola and suckled.

Hanzo let his hands come up and tangle in Jesse’s hair, fisted at the back of the man’s neck and let him do as he pleased. The hot drag of the flat of Jesse’s tongue, textured and warm, had Hanzo’s back bowing at a sharp angle, his own cock pulsing with a sudden need as pre bubbled at the tip. Hanzo had been hard since he’d gotten into Jesse’s room, but never had he felt so positively wanton.

The man spent several long moments worshiping Hanzo’s nipples, switching between them and laving over the perked nubs of pebbled flesh. Each drag had the younger shivering and grinding himself weakly up against Jesse’s belly. He couldn’t get over how hot he was getting so quickly. “J-Jesse,” he panted, “Your clothes are still on.”

Hanzo was rewarded by a sharp little bite to his left nipple, a jolt of pain and pleasure making him moan.

Jesse seemed like he was hesitant to let Hanzo go. Instead he bucked his hips up, letting the younger feel the pronounced bulge through his jeans while he leaned down and clamped onto a fresh patch of skin on Hanzo’s neck.

Finally, the two separated. Jesse let Hanzo’s feet back on the floor so that he could drag himself away with a ferocious dark look in his eyes. The older man started to pull at his own clothes. His shirt came off first, revealing wide swathes of rich sun-darkened skin and thatches of wild hair from the top of his chest down to the trail dipping below his jeans. There were bandages crossing over his shoulder and along his abdomen from the gunshot wounds, and a pang of guilt touched the younger’s chest. Hanzo couldn’t help how he licked his lips at the sight of McCree, eager to feel that body against his own. Then the man went for his jeans, undoing the buckle of his belt with a loud jangle, popping the button beneath and pulling them and his boxers away all at once.

Hanzo remembered how nice Jesse’s cock was. Fat and heavy, so big around he imagined he almost couldn’t wrap his hand around the whole thing. The man was already so hard that Hanzo could see the veins, and the foreskin had been stretched so far back already that the tip of his glans poked out, a ruddy shade of purple, with a bubble of pre pearled at the slit.

When Hanzo looked up from Jesse’s cock, he knew McCree caught him staring. He couldn’t help the way that his body dropped down to his knees, hands coming up to take Jesse’s cock in hand. He leaned up and in, kissing the tip and licking away a bead of salty pre at the slit, feeling the way the tip twitched excitedly beneath his lips. Hanzo had never felt so attuned to the smallest minutiae of how someone’s body reacted, had never craved sex like he did with Jesse. Even their first time paled in comparison to how desperately Hanzo wanted this man now.

A grunt from above had the younger glancing up, watching Jesse press his chin to his chest, dark eyes watching every move with salacious hunger. Hanzo just smirked as he kissed the tip again, then dragged his tongue over the slit. He dipped his head and let the flat of his tongue drag up the underside of Jesse’s cock, feeling the texture of the skin and the bump of the veins along the with the tang of McCree’s heady flavor mixed with the salt of sweat. As he wrapped his lips around the thick head and lowered himself down the length he could feel the pulse of blood thrumming beneath the skin in his mouth.

Hanzo closed his eyes and took a long moment to let himself slowly bob up and down the man’s length, letting lips and tongue drag lazily over the sensitive skin, reveling in how Jesse’s thighs went tense. Each time he bobbed back down he let the head slide a little deeper until he felt the twitching tip kissing the back of his throat. Of course Hanzo had no problem taking more - in fact he loved the feel of his throat stretching open around the man’s girth as he pulled more of the cock into his mouth.

He heard McCree curse above him, two hands coming to tangle in Hanzo’s hair. He didn’t fight the hold, and instead only pushed himself deeper before pulling back one last time, taking a deep breath so that on the next push he took all of Jesse’s dick into his mouth and throat. Above him he heard a choked sound, he could feel McCree’s legs shaking slightly with the force it took to keep from trying to fuck into Hanzo’s throat. He appreciated the care, though he thought that he wouldn’t mind at all if Jesse grabbed his head and fucked his throat like a toy.

But no… Hanzo knew he wanted the man in his ass more than his throat.

When he pulled back, he slipped off all the way with a loud pop and a soft gasp of air. He held his lips wide open and stared up at Jesse before he smirked, “Well?”

The sight above him was that of McCree’s body, a hairy mass of muscle and tanned skin, untamed facial hair that hadn’t been tended to in days, and a face full of unashamed  _ want _ that made Hanzo shiver. The man’s eyes were dilated, completely black, and  _ hungry _ . It was enough to make Hanzo openly shiver.

The hands in Hanzo’s hair slowly pulled out, reaching down to grab onto the man’s shoulders and pull him up and around. He let himself be guided, laying back on the bed.

He had momentarily forgotten that he still had his own pants on. There was a distinct wetness at the front of the crotch, and as Jesse’s hands came up to pull the cloth down and away, he could see how the tip of Hanzo’s cock was shiny and slick already.

As the gunslinger leaned in to kiss and lick the wetness away, Hanzo’s hand came down and threaded through the man’s hair gently, “McCree. Later, you may take all the time you desire. But right now, I need you inside of me.”

Hanzo never got to tell his clients what he wanted. He never got to have sex the way he wanted. He was at the whims of whomever had the most money that night – and for the first time in his life, the man wanted to experience pleasure his own way. When he met McCree’s eyes, he saw a dark glint of understanding there, and after one last kiss to Hanzo’s twitching tip, Jesse sat back.

Jesse turned and reached out under the edge of his bed, beneath the mattress, and produced a small tube of lube – half empty and obviously well-used. Hanzo couldn’t help but wonder how many nights a beautiful man like Jesse McCree had to use his own hand to stave off the hunger and loneliness.

“You want a condom?” the man asked in a slow drawl as he uncapped the end and worked a fair amount of the slick gel over his wide fingers.

Hanzo scoffed, “No. Not even a little bit.”

The first touch of warm fingers between his legs made the younger arch his back, breath hitching. Probing touches worked behind his balls, over his taint, then finally smoothed over their goal. Hanzo couldn’t help the way he pushed his hips down, wanting, aching, and McCree didn’t tease. The tip of one large finger sank inside and pushed deep, the man’s fingers curling so that he could get right down to the last knuckle.

Hanzo let out a low, appreciative moan and rocked his hips down again, wanting more than just a finger. “Jesse,” he panted, “I’m fine. Give me more…”

The man huffed, “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m pretty big, if you remember.”

“Of course I remember,” Hanzo scoffed and bucked down again without thinking, “How could I forget? That’s why I want you  _ in me _ .”

McCree gave a slow chuckle as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Hanzo’s shaking thigh, the prickle of his beard adding to the sensations crawling beneath the younger’s skin, “Don’t be impatient. I’ll give you what you want.” He pulled his finger back and  _ finally _ added a second and third finger at once, stretching his partner suddenly wider.

The burn and stretch was exactly what Hanzo craved. He couldn’t help the little whimper he gave as he pushed down, not caring if his prostate was hit – the feeling of fullness was enough for him. The knowledge that he was wanted, that he was allowed to have this, that was where his pleasure stemmed from.

Then Jesse crooked his fingers, twisting and angling them until they rubbed the bundle of nerves that sparked a fire in Hanzo’s belly. The younger didn’t bother to try holding back the moan that came from the depths of his chest. His breathing became short and staccato as he bucked down against each movement of the man’s hand, riding it and momentarily forgetting that there could be more.

Only briefly, however.

“ _ Jesse! _ ” Hanzo finally opened his eyes and looked down at the hungry face of want watching where three fingers speared the younger open. He spread his thighs a little wider, giving the man a better look and huffed at how the gunslinger growled his appreciation.

Then he snapped his legs closed, thighs holding onto the hand and stopping its movements for the moment, bringing McCree back to reality. Those hungry eyes turned back up to Hanzo’s face and the man smirked, “Jesse. I’m open enough. Fuck me.”

He saw the twitch of McCree’s face and the fingers inside of him at the statement, the pronounced bob of the man’s Adam’s apple before he slowly tugged his hand back. Hanzo let the man go, spreading his legs again and sighing when he felt those fingers slip free.

Jesse stood and got more lube onto his fingers, wrapped a broad hand around his own dick and started stroking wordlessly. Hanzo didn’t hide the fact that he was watching the action with unashamed lust as he spoke, “Don’t you dare hold back. I want to see if you can break me.”

The gunslinger lifted a brow and smirked, “Only if you promise to scream for me.”

Hanzo’s head swam briefly, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins, “A fair trade.”

Then Jesse was there, over him, his big body pressing Hanzo back into the bed. Warmth radiated outward from the bigger man like a furnace, warming Hanzo to his core as he eagerly wrapped his legs around the man’s hips. The cold press of a metal hand grabbed at one side of Hanzo’s hips while the other dipped between Jesse’s legs, taking his cock and lining himself up.

Hanzo had barely felt the twitching tip press against his hole before he was being speared open, stretched so  _ wide _ around Jesse’s girth. He threw his head back and whined out desperately, his legs locking around McCree’s hips, heels settling on the small of the man’s back while he was pierced so deep that his eyes went cross. Each time he thought there couldn’t possibly be more, the man kept pushing until Hanzo was sure he would feel that cock in the back of his throat.

When the man finally bottomed out, their hips resting flush together, Hanzo wanted to cry from the fullness. Jesse leaned over and down, and Hanzo wrapped his arms around those warm shoulders to hold him close.

He was surrounded entirely by the presence of Jesse McCree. From the scent of his hair, the warmth of his skin, the tickle of breath against his neck, the drag of hair and the rough scrape of bandages against his chest, the strength of the muscles flexing in his legs, and of course the feel of every twitch of the heat inside of him. The man overtop Hanzo was a five-sense experience, something entirely different and unique from any client he’d ever had. Something he would crave until his dying breath, because he didn’t think he could ever get enough of  _ this _ .

“More,” Hanzo panted weakly, “ _Fuck me_ , Jesse. Give me everything.”

Then Jesse was pulling back, only a few scant inches before his hips snapped forward again and speared Hanzo deep. There was a jolt of pleasure, a flash behind his eyes, his breath  _ punched _ out of his lungs.

It only got more intense. The rhythm the bigger man started was punishing and powerful, drawing back further each time only to slam in harder. The sound of skin on skin was as loud as their ragged, panting breaths, almost enough to drown out Hanzo’s loud whines and moans.

It was exactly what he wanted, and he did his best to meet each rough thrust with a roll of his hips, his heels digging into the small of the man’s back. There was the slightest brush of Jesse’s belly against his cock, the friction minimal and wispy, but enough to add to the long list of sensations that Hanzo struggled to keep track of.

Each drag of Jesse’s cock rubbed again Hanzo’s prostate, keeping his pleasure burning like an inferno deep within his belly. He barely even noticed the way one of his hands had gripped at McCree’s back shoulder, nails dragging furious red welts over sun-bronzed skin while the other hand had tangled in the thatch of hair at the base of the man’s scalp, gripping it like a lifeline.

At least the gunslinger didn’t seem to care as he heaved loud, heavy breaths like a bellows and continued to fuck the man beneath him like he would die if he dared to stop.

Hanzo couldn’t stop his orgasm if he’d wanted to – the sensations and experiences keeping his body so lit up with pleasure that he came on a scream, his back arching and pushing his chest up against Jesse’s own while his cock twitched and spilled over his own stomach.

When he felt Jesse’s pace stutter and start to slow, however, he tightened the hand in the man’s hair, “ _ Don’t you dare stop, _ ” he snarled as he rocked down as hard as he could against the cock still inside of him. He didn’t care if he went soft, he wanted  _ more _ .

McCree’s only response was to turn his head and bite down on Hanzo’s neck, a low growl rolling through his chest and into Hanzo’s as his pace picked back up.

The sparks of pleasure soon mingled with twinges of overstimulation, flashes of red and white that danced behind his eyes while he hung on for dear life. He felt another wave of climax wash over him, not as intense or sudden, but more like a wave that spread from the tips of his toes up to the crown of his head. He whimpered and whined, bucking his hips wildly.

Then, suddenly, Jesse snarled and the pace quickened to something shorter, staccato, before the man slammed his hips home and his body locked up. Hanzo could barely feel the twitch of the man’s cock and the heat of his seed spilling deep. Deeper than any of his clients, a mark that would never be touched by anyone else.

While Hanzo didn’t cum a third time, satisfaction filled him with a similar sort of pleasure as he moaned out, rolling his hips lazily until he felt Jesse’s muscles slowly start to relax.

They collapsed to the bed together, not parting, but breathing heavily into the space of the small room.

Jesse kept his face buried in the side of Hanzo’s neck, and it wasn’t until the younger forced his hands to relax that he was able to pull the gunslinger’s head up enough to coax a kiss from him. Slow and lazy with the taste of whiskey and copper, Hanzo belatedly realized that the man must have broken the skin on his neck. He didn’t mind in the least, and eagerly licked into the man’s mouth until the taste faded away.

McCree’s cock was softening inside of him, and Hanzo’s cock had gone soft some time back.

The feel of the man pulling his hips back and slipping free was odd, making Hanzo shiver and whine at the loss. But the man at his lips just gave him a lazy chuckle, “Don’t tell me you’re still hungry for more Darlin?”

Hanzo just smirked, “I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of that.”

“Well I’ll try not to let that go to my head,” Jesse pressed one last lazy kiss to Hanzo’s lips before he drew back and away, much to the dismay of his partner. “Easy now, I just need to stretch. And maybe get some ointment,” he reached back with his flesh hand and rubbed at the back of his shoulder, coming back with a few streaks of blood and a smirk.

The younger felt his grin widen, “Not sorry,” he stated simply.

The gunslinger straightened his back and then twisted it sharply, the joints popping loudly before he let out a sigh of relief, “Goddamn sweetheart.”

Hanzo huffed triumphantly, adjusting himself on the bed to lay back on the single pillow there. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping to regain his strength…

When he roused again, it was to the press of something warm and wet between his thighs. He jerked awake on a gasp, looking down at the head of brown hair between his legs and felt the press of a curious tongue probing at his hole. McCree went to work lazily lapping at the loosened pucker, sending sparks of pleasure skittering from Hanzo’s belly to his chest, making him squirm, “J-Jesse…”

He was rewarded with a lazy hum, flesh hand coming up to fondle the soft cock resting on his belly. He didn’t think he could get it up again no matter how much he wanted to.

Of course that didn’t stop McCree, the scrape of a beard over his skin and the tongue probing into his entrance making the younger squirm. Soon enough he rocked down into the touches, panting and moaning again. When a finger joined the man’s mouth, Hanzo knew what was coming next.

The metal finger was thicker and smoother than the flesh one, rubbing along the inside of Hanzo’s walls until it found the button of pleasure that had the younger man moaning out again. The sparks had started a slow burn of embers in his belly, trying to build into a flame.

Jesse moved his mouth up, taking Hanzo’s balls between his lips to suckle at them while he continued to rub at the softened cock. It didn’t take much before Hanzo’s squirming turned into desperate twitches and twists, then he felt one last swell of orgasm flutter through his body – his cock still soft though his body clenching helplessly down on the metal finger.

“Maybe if I wear you out, you’ll sleep through the night this time,” Jesse teased as he pulled his hands free and crawled back up Hanzo’s body. He felt the man lay overtop him, the warmth creeping through him, and the press of lips against his cheek was the last conscious thought he had before exhaustion claimed him.

* * *

 

Hanzo woke feeling warm and safe with a solid body pressed against his back. At first, he thought it to be just another client before the memories slowly started to return to him from the void. His clients never held him like Jesse did, with a protectiveness that seemed present even in sleep. Hanzo could feel the slow rise and fall of the man’s hairy chest pressed against his back alongside the scrape of bandages, both of them forced on their sides due to the small space of Jesse’s bed. Not that Hanzo minded at all, he liked the heat that radiated between them.

However, he only needed to shift slightly to recognize how tacky and gross he felt. His thighs were sticky, his breath felt sour, and his bladder was full.

Very slowly and very carefully, Hanzo tried to extricate himself from beneath the hold of his sleeping partner. It took only a few slight shifts before Jesse stirred though, his arm tightening its hold to yank Hanzo right back against his body as he gave a sleepy grumble, “Where y’think yer goin?”

Hanzo just smiled and turned himself around, pressing his body solidly against the older man’s furry chest. “Where can I go clean off?” he wondered and leaned up to nuzzle his face into the scratchy beard along Jesse’s jaw.

The man hummed and gave a jaw-cracking yawn, stretching before he relaxed back onto the bed. “I guess I should shower, myself…” he grumbled and made no move to get up, looping his arm a little more securely around Hanzo’s body.

The younger just smirked, “That’s up to you. But unlike our last time together, this isn’t goodbye.” Hanzo leaned up and pressed a kiss to McCree’s lips, smiling despite the morning breath.

Jesse hummed softly, something pleasant glinting in tired chocolate eyes. Suddenly the man went to go sit up, the air around Hanzo suddenly going cool as his heater left the small bed. He turned to watch McCree start to dress, tossing Hanzo’s clothes on the bed. It took another moment before the younger followed, sitting up and putting his own clothes on.

Hanzo was acutely aware of the burn of his muscles and the stinging between his legs when he finally stood. His hands came up, trying to tame his hair, pulling a tie out of his pocket to make a quick bun.

“You look nice with your hair up,” Jesse commented with a lazy sort of grin.

Hanzo couldn’t help himself as he grinned, “Well you look nice with your pants down.” He moved for the door and heard Jesse laugh behind him.

Jesse led Hanzo down the halls and into a communal shower room. It was empty, which Hanzo was thankful for as he stripped down and stepped into one of the stalls. He was not shy about nudity, but the idea of prying eyes after having only just gotten freedom was not a pleasant thought.

He had expected McCree to join him in his shower stall, but the man instead took the stall beside Hanzo’s in an offer of privacy.

The room was silent save for the spray of water for many long minutes while Hanzo washed himself diligently. He cleaned himself out with two gentle, soapless fingers before scrubbing the rest of the filth from his skin. It was as he was working his fingers through his hair that he felt the need to speak up, “Jesse?” he asked into the quiet of the room.

“What’s up Darlin’?” came the quick reply.

“That man who was with you when you saved me. The omnic…” Hanzo paused to see if Jesse would offer any information. When he didn’t, the younger pressed on, “What… _ who _ is he?”

Hanzo was met with silence, and was unsurprised.

“Jesse—”

“It’s not my place to tell you, Darlin’. Remember the first time we were together? You…told me that you wanted someone back. That wishing wouldn’t help,” Jesse’s voice was oddly quiet. The water in the man’s stall turned off and Hanzo heard the door opening.

He turned to follow, turning his shower off and stepping out of the stall. McCree was there, just outside the door with a towel offered out. Hanzo accepted it, trying not to take apart the apprehension building in his chest. The suggestion of Jesse’s words made him nervous.

Finally he shook his head, “It can’t be.”

“Only way to know is to talk to him. If you have any interest in stayin’ then you won’t have much of a choice…” Jesse dabbed at the stitches on his shoulder, the wound beneath still red and raw, but the biotics had at least healed most of the damage. It only reminded Hanzo of what this man, this stranger, had done for him.

Hanzo quietly dried himself off, ignoring the shaking of his hands as he did.

He had  _ watched _ his brother die by his own blade. He had seen the fear and love fade from those golden-brown eyes.

Genji Shimada was dead, and it was Hanzo’s fault.

“Darlin’?” Jesse’s voice, accompanied by a solid hand on his shoulder pulled the younger man from his woolgathering. His eyes snapped up and found the gunslinger watching him with sad worry, “You don’t have to do anything, remember that.”

“That metal… _ thing _ cannot be my brother!” he finally snapped and stepped away, jerking his shoulder free. “You will take me to him, and I will see for myself. My brother  _ died _ , I saw it myself,  _ I _ was the one who killed him!” Hanzo felt the wayward tears slide warm down his cheeks, and saw the surprise on Jesse’s face, “I need to know how that thing can control my brother’s dragon!”

Jesse was silent for a long while. Finally he sighed and broke eye-contact, glancing down, “Get dressed then. We’re not gonna meet him naked.”

Hanzo squared his shoulders and nodded.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later saw Hanzo and Jesse dressed in fresh clothes and walking through the base. Hanzo had pulled his hair back into a quick bun and walked straight-backed, feeling like he was walking into a battle. If the metal monstrosity had somehow stolen his brother’s dragon, Hanzo would never allow the thing to live.

From beneath the skin of his left arm, he felt his own dragons shift restlessly. Translucent blue scales and ridges shifted over his own skin, and the change was enough to draw the watchful eye of his companion. The man was smart enough to keep quiet, however.

Jesse opened a final door after they had traversed a long series of winding hallways, opening up into a large room with a high ceiling and solid metal walls. Blue mats lined the floor in the middle of the room, and various training objects had been pushed to the far back wall.

In the center of the room, two figures sparred with practiced fluidity. It was a dance Hanzo recognized from his youth as Jesse’s dark-skinned Commander blocked and parried a flurry of kicks and punches from the smaller metal man moving around him. The combat style was familiar, drilled into Hanzo from a young age, reinforced through hours of exhaustive repetition and cruel force.

The metal man looked different than he had before. He had less plating, his left arm and the back of his head were uncovered, and there were red and black cables stretching from the back of his head. Hanzo could see the man’s back, a weave of wires and thick black fiber that looked like exposed muscles.

The pair didn’t notice Hanzo and Jesse enter the room, their practice continuing without hesitation until Hanzo’s dragons stirred again beneath the skin of his arm.

That was when Hanzo saw the slow churn of green shifting out from the center of the metal man’s back, rising up and around his shoulder and making both men stop. Both were winded as they turned to look at Hanzo and Jesse, and Hanzo saw that half of the metal man’s face was uncovered. Both of their dragons continued to writhe, long wisps of blue and green swirling in the air.

“Hanzo?” Jesse reached out to touch at the man’s shoulder, but before Hanzo could stop him the dragons lashed out in a whorl of violent energy. A roar echoed into the cavernous room as Jesse was thrown suddenly onto his back with a yelp.

The green energy around the metal man surged upwards as well, the smoky tendrils taking the shape of a dragon that came forward, and met with the two twin blue dragons reaching out from Hanzo.

The Commander had staggered away from the metal man, “Jesse!” he snarled, “He’s not supposed to be here!”

Whatever Jesse replied with was unheard – Hanzo was focused solely on the metal man standing in the center of the room. Two eyes stared at him, pinpricks of red light gleaming from the center while their dragons twirled and danced, overjoyed at being reunited.

It was Hanzo who took the first step forward, then the second. Each step closer made it harder to breathe, his heart hammering like thunder in his chest.

Then the two were standing face to face, Hanzo staring into those piercing red eyes. The bottom of the metal man’s face was covered in an angled plate, but what he could see of the man’s skin was heavily scarred.

“That dragon,” Hanzo managed to keep his voice strong and even.

“ _ My _ dragon,” the metal man corrected in a familiar voice tinted with synth.

“No. That dragon died. How…what sorcery!” Hanzo swallowed down the fear and anguish. The dragons had gone silent around them, still twisting around one another.

The metal man gave a mirthless chuckle, “Not sorcery. Science. Didn’t father always teach you to always pierce the heart to make sure your target is dead?”

The words stung and Hanzo grit his teeth. He could recall, blade poised over Genji’s chest, hands shaking.

“You left me to suffer and bleed out because you would not make that final cut. After everything you did, Hanzo, that was the cruelest. You left your brother to choke on his own blood because you were a  _ coward _ .”

Hanzo snarled his rage and grabbed out, fingers wrapping around the thick fibers of the metal man’s throat. The red eyes narrowed knowingly, rage tipped into that synthetic voice, “Some things never change.”

Hanzo’s hands struggled and shook, unable to squeeze down. He wished the metal man would fight him, struggle, or yell, but those piercing red eyes only expressed quiet disdain as he stared Hanzo down.

“Take it off,” Hanzo whispered, his voice breaking, “Take off your mask.”

The metal man was silent and still for a long moment before his metal arm reached up, fingers unlatching the mask along the sides of his jaw before pulling it off. The man’s jaw was lined in a metal brace that attached to the fibers on his neck. The scarring continued down from his face, over his nose and mouth, the bottom of his lip down to his chin made entirely of metal.

Yet there was familiarity in the strength of the man’s jaw, the set of his lips, and the shape of his eyes. Hanzo couldn’t deny that with the whole picture now, he stared at the brother he had killed so many years ago.

His hands fell away from Genji’s neck like they had been burned, and the blood in his veins turned to ice. When he tried to step away, to put some space between himself and the automaton his knees both gave out and he collapsed back with a pained sound. “Brother…”

Whatever fate had befallen Genji seemed to be worse than the death which the Elders had ordered. What had they done to him?

“Nothing I didn’t allow,” Genji’s voice came to the question Hanzo didn’t realize he had asked aloud. “Blackwatch found me, very nearly dead. They scraped what little they could back together, and gave me the choice to continue living.”

Hanzo felt dizzy and sick. The eyes of  his brother, now red and cruel, stared down at him. He could no longer see the carefree Sparrow that lounged around Shimada castle or spent endless hours at the arcade. Yet the face he saw was undeniably Genji.

He threw himself at the younger’s feet, on his knees with his hands on the mat, forehead on his fingers. “Please,” he begged, his voice now shaking with tears he couldn’t keep back, his words coming to him in Japanese, “ _ Please. I can never apologize enough. There are no words capable. _ ”

Genji moved slowly, his actions measured as he knelt down, one knee resting by Hanzo’s hand, “ _ Hanzo. How did you end up at that brothel? _ ”

Hanzo swallowed, but he did not hide the truth, “ _ I failed everyone. I failed father. I failed the elders. I failed you… I took the only good thing in my life and destroyed it because of my own pride. And then…I failed to take my own life. I reasoned that death was not enough. I shed the clan, my name, my clothes, my identity, and sought to give myself to whatever the whims of others wanted. It was the worst thing I could think of, the lowest I could debase myself. I was ready to die a nameless whore… _ ”

“ _ And yet you called McCree to come save you, _ ” there was a touch of bitterness in that voice. Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to look up as he understood that Genji was right.

“ _ I’m sorry. I-I was weak. Scared. _ ”

_ “Hanzo… If you had not called McCree, you would not be here. Do you not think it strange that we would end up here of all places? That in this vast world, Fate brought us together again?” _ There was a strange maturity to Genji’s words that had Hanzo slowly lifting his head, turning his eyes up to the impassive face above him, “ _ No matter what you did to me, you are capable of too much to just die a nameless whore in some brothel. And there is  _ nothing _ that you can do to me to earn my forgiveness.” _

The words stung, but Hanzo accepted them. His head fell back to his hands and he let out a weak little sob.

“ _ For years I have thought about what I would do to you if we ever crossed paths again. How many ways have I killed you in my head? Made you to suffer like I did? And yet…now that you are here at my feet, I realize that it would be a waste to kill you. Do you want my forgiveness, Hanzo?” _

“ _ I do not deserve it. I will never deserve it,”  _ Hanzo choked.

“ _ No, you don’t. But you can at least try,”  _ there was a bitter bite to the younger’s words and Hanzo couldn’t help but flinch. “ _ Do you want my forgiveness? _ ”

The elder nodded weakly, “ _ More than anything. _ ”

Genji was silent for a long moment, long enough for Hanzo to pull his head to look up once more, blinking away the tears to focus on those red eyes. “ _ Reyes is going to offer you a position with us in Blackwatch. You are going to take it, and you are going to follow his orders. Perhaps one day, you may earn my forgiveness by doing good for the world. _ ”

Hanzo swallowed. He didn’t care what Genji wanted, what he offered, “ _ I’ll do it, _ ” he murmured, “ _ Whatever it takes. _ ”

Genji hummed as if unconvinced. “ _ We shall see, _ ” he said. The man’s flesh hand came up and rested on Hanzo’s shoulder, his touch feather-light and his expression unreadable, yet for the barest flash Hanzo could have sworn he saw relief on the younger’s marred features. Then Genji leaned down  and wrapped his arms around Hanzo’s shoulders, making his elder brother stiffen in surprise.

After a moment, Hanzo couldn’t stop a fresh flood of tears as he surged up and hugged his brother for the first time in years.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, off to the back of the room, Gabriel and Jesse watched the brothers hug, surrounded by a swirl of magical dragon energy. Gabriel glanced to his second, “KP and latrine duty for a  _ month, _ McCree.”

“Yep…”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this. Remember that you can come check out [my tumblr](http://inkatheart.tumblr.com/) to see more content and get updates.


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